On my way to work in the morning I pass by a boy and his dad waiting for the school bus. The boy looks to be about six or seven and he and his dad play catch in the driveway as they wait. We have gotten used to seeing each other and exchange a smile and a wave as I pass by. It makes for a sweet morning. For some reason though I have not seen them in a couple of weeks and I hope everything is all right. Perhaps they have moved or something. I keep them in my prayers.
When I was in Kindergarten I walked home from school with my sister who was in 5th grade. We only lived two blocks from the school but there was one fairly busy street we had to cross. One day in Spring we were waiting at the corner for a good time to cross. Anne was very attentive and responsible. She judged the cars distances and knew when it was safe to cross over. I never doubted her. This particular day however, she misjudged and said "run Gracie" and I ran. The car was coming from the right and traveling in the far lane, so by the time we met in the middle of the street I actually hit the side of the car. The back bumper caught my right thigh and spun me like a top to the curb where I fell unconscious. All I remember before everything went black was my sister screaming. When I "woke up" I was in my mother's arms on the ground next to the curb. As you can imagine everyone was very concerned. Mother heard my sister scream and came running. The woman who was driving the car was terribly shaken and I heard her saying "They were waiting so patiently". The interesting thing about this memory is that it's one of love and concern. I never have frightening feelings about this experience. Everyone else was horrified, especially my sister. It took her a long time to get over the guilt. Amazingly enough they took an x-ray of my leg and it was just badly bruised. Just a bruise and a great story for the rest of my life. That's what I got the day I hit the car.
Do you have any memories that have left a surprising response?